The Magic of Bookstores
If you’re like me, and love book stores, this post won’t say anything you don’t already know.
In an age where physical bookstores are being visited less and less, it seems more and more important to spread the word on how special they really can be.
It’s rare to be able to walk into a store that’s so familiar, yet so mysterious. The bookstore you frequent will look nearly the same each time you go in, but the shelves are filled with books that are new to you. Maybe you’ve seen some of them, and even read your fair share, but there’s always a few more that you’ve yet to have any experience with.
A bookstore is like taking all of your memories, hopes, dreams, wishes, inhibitions, and desires, giving them a physical form and then surrounding yourself with them. It’s magical.
With other areas of retail, bigger stores tend to mean a less personal feel. More corporate influence, yada, yada, yada. While I’m sure that’s true to some degree with book stores as well, that magic feeling tends to get even stronger with a bigger store.
I live in a smallish city. Not tiny, but not big enough to have a nice, big Chapters or Indigo. So when I get the chance to roll into a bigger store, I take it.
Most of us bookworms could be in the middle of a full-on panic attack and if we turned around and suddenly found ourselves in a book store a strange calm would come over us. Questions about how the hell we got there would eventually service, but it would take a few minutes, and they’d just be general musings at that point.
I guess what I’m saying is don’t stop going to book stores. I know there are plenty of reasons why online is more efficient, or cheaper, but there’s no magic in online shopping. And I’m not telling anyone to stop shopping online, either. Just stroll in. Just every once in a little while.
Fun fact about this post: There’s a drip outside my window that’s driving my nuts as a try to write about the tranquility of a bookstore.